Big Joe is the moral North on this record – to a degree. If you’ve heard the first record and realise who he is, you may see his apologies and espoused values as empty platitudes – a fallen angel in the mold of Milton’s Satan (not that he was sorry), full of violent glory and powerless to invoke change, even on a personal level. I didn’t want to ‘write’ an anti-hero, but as the process went on, it became apparent that JH’s role on this record was that of – if not redeemer – at least someone seeking redemption. To be honest, I would have just asked the guy to relax and have another drink.
Deadrie shows up as a voyeur very late in the piece, but Future Wolf has dressed in his best man suit and taken the name of Joseph Hollybone – don’t ask me if he killed for it. This tale runs its course some hundred years or so before the events of The Skeleton’s Problematic Granddaughter, but I can’t stress enough that this isn’t a sequel. We’re dealing with a time traveling wolf in a cosmology that operates under the assumption of free will and sneers at the concept of predestination with wine stained teeth.
Look, I’m not sure if you’ve ever been to a Gay Paris show, but you must know that we got hips. Funk can be a dirty word unless you really put some grime on it – and that is exactly what we’ve done. As this is a lyrically solemn and spiritual record, we packed as much soul as we could into it – know what we found out? We’ve got the kind of empyreal souls that just don’t quit. If anyone is worried that we can’t do it heavy anymore, don’t worry, we understand your concerns and have riffs that not even Atlas could lift. We got the rock n’ roll shakes in spades and a whole bag of tricks that will make your lover scream when they see us standing on stage in our skin-tight trousers.
We took our time on this one – and then rushed it at the end. We argued over three or four hundred riffs that Blacktooth had written, lost a complete set of lyrics thanks to Slim’s debauchery and benefited from the sage guidance of Six Guns (who apparently runs a master class in song writing for anyone who has money to throw at their creative insufficiency). Overall, we had plans for what ‘type’ of songs would be on the record, but in the end, we just put down the best that we had – sorry, no gypsy sea shanty on this one. Considering the wealth of material that we had going into this, I’m surprised by how streamlined the results were.
Short answer: yes. Our fans are crazy. We knew what they wanted and we offered it to them – a new record and the chance to have us demean ourselves for their pleasure. Did you know that we are the good time band? That said, I can’t find the ‘right’ word to describe how touching it is to know that so many people really give a fuck about us putting out a new record and taking it on the road.
We wouldn’t want to ask for too much – after what we’ve received, we owe the people a hell of a lot. I would recommend that anyone with a great idea that needs funding to do whatever they can to see that reality, but you must know that as far as financial advice and moral guidance goes, Gay Paris is not the font of knowledge to look to.
A while back, I said something like ‘Gay Paris, uniting perverts across the country!’ and I think the statement stands. As far as bands go, we’ve made deep connections with so many awesome bands – Brothers Grim & The Blue Murders, The Snowdroppers, The Beards, Totally Unicorn and Guthrie – man, I could go on. Most of those dudes (notable exception being Guthrie, the gentlemen of hell-sounds) are perverts too. We see people from Sydney in Brisbane, Melbourne in Newcastle and Canberra in Wollongong. We see them making friends with the locals. We’re creating a social system that is as egalitarian as it is inebriated.
What can fans expect from the November tour and indeed, the upcoming release of ‘The Last Good Party’?
Come on! Thrusts, boozing, riffs, all the old hits, even more new hits, stinking clothes, new shoes, maybe some capes, holding hands and a make out booth at the merch table, deep conversation about eschatological matters if you manage to sneak back stage and start drinking our rider and the best god damned stage show we can cram into the mortal coil. Bring money, bring shame – throw them at us and dance like you never want to go home. Death to Spring!
Many thanks to WH for taking the time to chat to us. For all upcoming tour dates for November, head to: http://bit.ly/VuhwHw